Does anyone fancy a fight?

Julian,

I suppose a quick call to Salisbury to bolster numbers. No problem, just more gear with which to pummel you. Rest assured, i'll be skillful enough so as not to completely flatten the earth with you and your mongrel brethren buried beneath it, lest you enjoy it. Parking that ridiculous limousine of yours over the site of the carnage should insure that even as warped a piss ant as yourself should not escape to corrupt and disfigure the sensibilities of anyone that isn't a PRaT.

As for the rest of you monkeys, its just illustrated for me that there is always one more imbecile than you previously counted on in these matters.

MO, if you think that is a point well made, wait until i ram a Musical Fidelity X-cans up your monkey arse, you interfering prick. Then see if it still grooves. You'll have blue bile streaming down your leg, before i break it off and feed it to the piranas.

Mother nature is a supreme bitch.

 

Arh, your all rank amateurs at this game :newbie:
No more Mr Nice guy , you guys are well beyond goat blowing or anal molestation of ringtailed lima's, nah your guys preform indepth studies of spider crab reproductive habits, with out the aid of an action man deep sea divers helmet, whilst engaging in lycanthropic practices, with used cheese crusts freshly disgarded by doc death

 

Well, I for one only do that occasionally, I don't make a habit of it.

-- Ian

 

Oh dear Julian
Not only an illiterate tosser, but a myopic tat to boot.

 

yer i'll take the lot of ya on,i'll even tie one arm behind my back to give ya a fair chance, ya bunch of shandy drinking nancy's,and stop looking at my pint

 

it was a typo you bunch of cuntphobic asswreckers. your intolerance is as great as your ignorance.

hippy, from the stories i've heard about you the pint you'd be drinking would be the piss of norfolks rankest transients. it's therefore highly unlikely that we'd be looking at it. more like running from it at full tilt less it spill.

cookie,
my car could beat the piss out of your wheezing, chip fat guzzling dollop of a pug. as for salisbury coming to your rescue i'm sure dirty doug and the rest of 'the boys' would take great pleasure in stabbing you in the back metaphorically as well as literally. (and if i've spelt anything there wrong, then you can just take a dive into a swimming pool full of hippy brau).

tony,
unintelligable as always. maybe you should turn off the vibrator before reaching for the keyboard. that way you might be able to hit at least some of the correct keys in the correct order.

c'mon ya slaaaaaags.
cheers


julian

 

Well Julians obviously been distracted with changing his panties.

Penance and Sideshowblob are away busying themselves rubbing the static off their beloved vinyl between their butt cheeks right now, in an act of bubbalicious audiophile foreplay. Just make sure those stray clingons don't crack the needle. You know, Frederic Raphael was right when he said..........turntables are like hemorrhoids; sooner or later every asshole gets one.

Wadia-meister, should you not be away whipping Timpys arse into shape with a fresh length of audiophile floss. You know he likes his lashes before bedtime. Oooh, you bad man, harder!.....oh...wait...get the Hurricane, oh yes....feel the sting of those bleeding edges, oh no...not the anadin. DIN up the arse, DIN out the arse. In, out, in, out.....ooohhhh, meister. Big boys and their audiophile toys, well beyond redemption.

Madhippy, piss off to Amsterdam and and get a hair cut. Tosser.

 

Cookie
the clingons are just bits of your brain matter that you left behind when you tried licking my arse.

 

Cookie's just a wee bit miffed, due to his inverted testeees, has sprouted a early technics analogue tuner in SATIN BLACK, a real bummer for someone who loves the sauve silk like, gliding silver finish, that looks so cool with it's dove tail mitering bathed in luminious off pink neon, who cares if it clashes at the blue oyster bar, cookies not.
Mere mortals, to think I'd waste my energy on such insufficent single celled prime ordial goo, is beyond comprehension, please do stick to forest fornication with lime pickle & jasmine petals, and don't go protesting to mummy afterwards

 

I'm surprised you lot spend enough time away from the Grass Market to indulge yourselves in this kind of tepid foreplay.

Still, let it not be me who stands in the way of your innate ramblings. After all there is more likely greater scope for intellectual argument with the contents of the average gerbil cage than there is amongst you ham-fisted, hi-fi molesting techno geeks.

And by the way, you all possess odd items of pink under-garments, except Cookie, who obviously has the full set and wears them all the time; but only on the outside of his clothing at weekends.

Cheers tossers

PS good thread this

 

Oh look!

Cock boys gimp has turned up!

Joined at the ass I suspect

 

Hand behind back? Your normal posture so I believe! Also explains the shit under the finger nails.

 

julian obviously geography was never a strong point of yours, your the sort of person who would go where no-one has ever been before and stay there, you worth less than the shit stuck to your arse hair
cookiemonster a fine example of why cousins should never marry,let alone have children, going to amsterdam would not be far enough away from you ,Your nothing more than the contents of a slop bucket in an enema clinic.
And as for that red arsed baboon calling himself mo you sound like the sort of person who buys the clap from a viral lab just to make it look like you get laid,the olny shit under my fingernails will be from your arse after ive insert your freshly ripped off head up there.To the rest of you ,may you live a long life and be the butt of many jokes to come,

 

Thankfully i suspect Timpy will be removed from the gene pool when he crashes his gay rover due to overloading it with his collection of Aiwa paper cones.
Oh, and that muffled scream, it's WM in the boot of Timpy's crap mobile, still tied up from last nights anal exploration session. Guys, i know its cheaper, but there are better ways than useing axle grease and sandpaper.

 

Wadia-meister, it's a well known fact amongst the learned and enlightened caste, that all hifi built after 1982 should be consigned to the waste dump. Likewise, anything built before 1972 should be lined up in the path of a Lexus going at full steam with slipper to the metal, to ensure complete destruction of these defunct articles of audiophile history. Anything manufactured between 72 and 82 which doesn't come in silver (barring a Sansui, which for complex metaphysical and epistemological reasons is exempt from this exclusion) is also best thrown on the fire which resides beyond the blue curtain, where the hordes of retarded frequency spectrum analysers squirt cream over thier tombs of equations, graphs and meaningless coefficients. Similarly, those inconsequential boxes without a full array of finely crafted aluminium knobs, coloured light emitting deficiencies, dimensions which are insufficient to eclipse the sun, and all those lightweights which require less than a four man lift, are not even worth casting ones eye upon, lest they be blinded by its insignificance. Now even for a man at this stage of audiophile heresy, he is far from salvation, and the path of ultimate irrefutable enlightenment that i maintain, requires greatness which is beyond most of the cretins of Zerogain.

As a fellow traveller, much to my chagrin, it is my duty, as ordained by the great interstellar Rough Guide to the cosmos, to lend my assistance in these matters. You are one Wadia away from total chaos, so there still remains a slim chance of salvaging you from the scrapheap of audio tomfoolery. I suggest you extract a few thousand dozen lengths of glitzy bell wire from Timpys pulsating rectum, sew them all together, staple one end to your limp stump of a penis, before hooking the other end up to the tow bar of that crap heap of a motor you are unfortunate enough to drive - place a speaker on the accelerator (don't waste too much time deliberating over the selection, any old shit like a Meadowlark will do) hit the nitro button and pray for a speedy exit from voodoo hell into the microcosm of complete spiritual magnificence.....

....Hopefully your dick will just snap off, and i'll never have to see you again. Timpy can retrieve the bleeding stump and place it in his speaker mausoleum for eternal gratification, before he lends his golden ear to your bleeting buffoonery for another millenium. He probably can't hear any of this at the moment as he is sat two inches from his speakers farting wildly like a madman in anticipation of the days cable 'testing', his arse still dribbling profusely following yesterdays power cord shoot out.

Julian, you should really create a game engine that you cannot escape from, do us all a favour. It would be nice if you'd also take Jeremy Clarkson with you, where you can continue to blow him off, and save the rest of us the ordeal of such a pitiful specimen.

Penance, i wouldn't lick your arse if i was a homosexual cabinet minister on a scatological field trip. Just hop on your weeny bicycle and deliver some pizzas peasant boy.

Hippy, just climb inside one of your behemoth speaker cabinets, take in a few shit cakes, and barrels of stout, weld the meaty cabs up from the inside, and before you can say 'My beard is home to a thousand infestations, and how the f**k can speakers so large make any sort of tune unless you're so stoned that even a blow torch aimed at your bell end couldn't make you flinch', i'll pass you over into the hands of Carpchasser, who next time he is out by the lake, can launch you in there to sink to the murky depths and rot slowly over the coming decades, providing plump and happy go lucky carp that would bamboozle many a seasoned fisherman.

 

cookie,
i think you should up the medication really. you are becoming confused as to what is real and what is fantasy. i even suspect that you are one of those sad individuals who sees the matrix as a documentary.
i've heard this can happen when the forhead is compressed so much by a significant others opposable digit that a kind of lobotomy takes place. perhaps this explains your recent fire 'sale' of decent hi-fi. you must be aware of this at some level as your continual wearing of a beanie hat during the lurve twins myth busting day indicates a premature loss of hair due to the inner conflict of having to kow tow to your tyranical master and the shame of a huge festering welt in the middle of your forehead that provides the final proof of your whippedness. grow some balls man and throw off this yoke of oppression or do you like being the bitch? yeah i know you love it.
cheers


julian

 

Penance, we were informed of the intrepid exploits with the molly melibdenum disophate, stuff of legends sir, even the great mooncock explorer of tau sigma prime bows to your 'intimate knowledge' of this most colonic of substances, he salutes your masterful use of klinker remover abilities.
Cookie, my learned understudy, those minor distrubances that cause your grey matter to circumvent they designed purpose is most disburbing, purhaps a frontal lobal labotamy, with a coloinic irrigatio kit may yet yeild a statisactory conclution to 'off path wanderings'.
The elders have been concerned over recent eons, that your extreme use of 'Brushed alloy' in your under garments, is some what perplexing?, Returning back in time to seekout pitbull chewing wasp syndrome looking 'audio', they feel tis a waste of the 'Purpose', further to this, then constructing and custom built neon sign to advertise the fact, your actively seeking sexual gratification with a trio tuner circa 1974? I believe, who ionion pulses and high radiant current facillities you wish to exchange atoms with, still as they on Kappa markquis, reverse angle (neon) trouser merchants are just recycled scrap yard dealers looking for a 'quickshot' to pleasure.
Consider the hopeless cause you lead, think of those poor souls having to deal with the dephiled antiquated pieces of pig ugly over weight door stops.
Julain, being doug grahamas love child must be a shamefull burden, you've suffered enough my smypathies sir

 

WM
how do you manage to see the screen when you have Timpy's nutsack resting on your nose?
Or maybe that explain your illiterate mistyped anal ramblings, like an epidemic of genital pox over the HiFi Fora

 

Why anyone would want to buy an 'Auralex Gramma' at all is beyond the comprehension of any sane individual. The best way to isolate a hifi, is to strap it to the side of a Beagle adventurer. Not even an ardent bearded lunatic scientist could find out where the f**k it's gone to, and everyone's a winner.

AV? WTF is that? Tosser sits at the centre of a speaker stonehenge (7.1 for hardcore tribalists), with a plasma gateway (42" minimum for serious Dorito enthusiasts) to the lunatic asylum.

Nobody is interested in your whinings. I'll give you a tenner if you promise not to come back.

 

Like you have a tenner to give away.